“Fine,” I grumble. After two hours of laying in the bed with sleep evading me, I give up.

I sit up, my eyes locking on the chair across the room. My mind runs wild with visions of how hot Christian would look sitting there, like a king on a throne. Shaking my head, I push the thoughts aside.

Bad idea, Mila.

Then another thought strikes me, this one turning the burning heat slowly slipping through my veins into pure ice.

Did Talia used to sleep here in his giant bed withhim? Take showers in the same bathroom? Ride him in the fancy corner chair.

Bitter jealousy swirls in my stomach, making my chest ache. Not only is he not here for me to confront him, but his exis, and she’s staying for the Founder’s Day party, which means I’m on my own in dealing with her for the foreseeable future.

How could he bring me here, knowing she would also be staying here and that I’d learn the truth?

I should have asked more questions. How long were they engaged? Why did they getun-engaged? Who proposed, and if she was his good girl, too?

No. Scratch that. I don’t want to ruin one of the few things that bring me joy right now.

And he speaks to her every day on the phone? I’ve come to the conclusion he must have been doing it when he’s hiding out in his office all day in the lighthouse. Maybe when he left the island, he wasn’t really picking up packages at all, but instead, meeting her.

Oh my God. What if they fucked?

What if he met her, and they screwed in the back of his fancy car, and then he came back home to the little damaged girl he justhadto take pity on and marry to save her from her evil stepfather’s plans?

“This is too much,” I grumble, slipping from the bed.

Deciding to get a drink and maybe food if Paulina isn’t around with her grapefruits, I slip from the suite and make my way downstairs towards the kitchen.

I’m just about to step through the dark living room when a figure in front of the fire startles me.

Bella sits on the rug in front of the fireplace, watching the dancing flames. She only glances at me before she looks away and wipes her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I slowly back up towards the exit. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Please . . .” she stalls, her voice quiet. “Stay.”

Okay . . .

When I don’t move, she turns over her shoulder, fixing me with a look.

“I’m not going to bite.”

Funnily enough, her brother said the same thing, and we all knowthatwas a lie.

Carefully, I pad across the room, sinking down to the faux bear skin rug in front of the fire beside her.

She takes a swig from the bottle of wine beside her before she hands it over to me. I’ve never been that into drinking, but right now, I think I’d drink pond water if it took my mind off her stupid, hot brother for even a moment.

I take a drink of the berry wine, wincing as it slides down my throat. Quietness fills the room as both of us watch the flames flickering in the fireplace in front of us. I don’t think either of us is really in the mood to explain our inner battles, so we sit in uncomfortable silence.

Well . . . uncomfortable for me, at least. Just last night, we were avoiding each other like the plague, and now we’re sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor while she cries silently beside me.

“What do you think the witches of Salem felt when they were being burnt alive at the stake?”

I’m so surprised by her question I have to take another drink to process it.

When her eyes meet mine, I can see she’s not joking and genuinely wants me to answer. I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“I think it feels a lot like being sliced open.” The scars on my body burn as if reminding me they’re there. “Death by a thousand cuts.”